Mr Emrys Goes to Washington
by PADavis
Summary: Galen's connection with Rob is brutally severed when they are a continent apart. Hurt and confused, Galen is easy prey for whatever attacked. Rob needs to find him first. Written by request for Muffy Morrigan.
1. Welcome Reception

Delivering on a long ago promise, herewith a story set in Muffy Morrigan's Custodes Noctis Universe. This is her world, the rest of us play in it from time to time. This is complete in four chapters.

The title was borrowed from the movie _Mr Smith Goes to Washington_. No filibustering here, just Washington, DC, in August.

* * *

_Mist. Bulging eyes. Smoke. Sparks. Movement._

Stars. They were stars. Stars through smoke. A few clouds, almost bright in the night sky, but mostly stars littering the sky above him.

Gods, his head hurt.

_Screaming. Tendrils of smoke, fog everywhere. Drums. _

He came to with a start. He was lying on the ground. Star gazing? Something else was here...

_Noise, like firecrackers. Sparks—sparklers? Voices. Some talking. Some screaming. In his head. Behind his eyes. Dancing. Movement. _

Pain.

Gasping, head pounding, he tried to breathe without screaming, to breathe slowly, calm himself down. Finally, he could reach out a hand and found concrete beneath him. Warm concrete. He blinked a couple of times. But it was night. He struggled up, gasping when a sharp pain skewered his head, ear to ear. Another through his torso. Something dripped in his eye. He put up a hand and wiped at it. Dark liquid on his fingers. Up to his nose – it smelled warm, coppery. Blood. Another drip went straight into his eye.

His left arm felt leaden. Wiping his fingers on the concrete, he used his right hand to tentatively touch his head, his arm, his side, hissing when he found things that hurt. His tee-shirt was damp with blood. He looked down at himself – jeans, a button down with rolled sleeves over the tee, sneakers. More blood in his eye. He used the hem of his shirt to wipe his eyes clear, dabbing tentatively at the cut and bump he'd found on his scalp.

His surroundings were … confusing. Sidewalk, shrubs, lights off in the distance, concrete walls, and a smell. Earthy, unspecified, too many odors mixed together but primarily animal, mammals, furred things … he looked behind him and saw metal bars. That couldn't be right. He wasn't in a cage. Was he?

He got onto his knees and unsteadily to his feet, his vision swimming with the motion. Just his luck to go on vacation and find…get…run into…a what?

He stopped and closed his eyes. A vacation? A vacation from what? From where? Groaning, he rubbed his temples. Something caught his eye. A watch on his right wrist. He brought it up to his eyes and angled it to catch some light. Almost three. Slick watch. Big face, moon phases, ticking secondhand. On his left wrist a bracelet, copper and something else.

If he was in a cage, at least they'd left him his stuff. He checked his pockets. A handful of paper, a money clip with a roll of bills that turned out to equal $124, another tissue, lint. No wallet, no ID, no credit card, no license, no car keys. Maybe they hadn't left him his stuff.

There was something on the ground. He bent down and caught a corner with one hand. He thought at first it came apart when he lifted it, but it was the front cover of a book. Big book. Really big book. He got upright and hoisted it up with him, and without thinking tucked it under his left arm. It hit the ground again. Groaning, he bent to pick it up again, this time pushing the spine up under his right arm. The cover felt dry and worn. It smelled good, like… old bookstores. That made him smile.

A loud high pitched "_Wha_" came from his left. He spun toward the noise, staggering a little, but still tense and ready, right hand twitching up for something over his shoulder, something not there. He wasn't sure what.

At least he didn't drop the book.

'_Wha, wah, huff, wha._' There it was again. He laughed suddenly. It was an animal. He lurched down the sidewalk toward the light, ignoring the jackhammer pounding in his head, round a building, and emerged onto a broad walkway. He angled toward the sound and looked around curiously. He was in a—zoo.

He approached a fence and peered in but it was too dark to see anything. Spotting a sign illuminated by the nighttime lights, he moved to his right. He let the book rest on the sign, and tried to focus his eyes. Oh. Red Pandas.

He loved pandas.

He did.

Didn't he?

He looked at the display sign again, running his hand over the cool plastic. Gripped the edge tight when he read 'National Zoo'.

He looked up, almost going over backwards when his body took a few seconds to catch up with his head. There was Polaris, so that was north. Draco was all wrong, centered where it was over the horizon. Ursa Minor—and it was Ursa Minor he confirmed, picking out Kolchab— above and east. Draco should be rotated well northwest of Polaris if he was, was … where?

Pain lanced through his head again. He squeezed his eyes shut.

_Smoke. Huge eyes. Tongues, tendrils, smoke. Screaming. Music. _

Forcing his eyes open, he breathed raggedly for a moment before gingerly prodding the bump on his head. He watched as the book started to slide off the edge of the sign. He caught it with his hip and tried to think. Head injury—that would be what's causing this stuff in his head. He'd get it looked at and he'd be fine. And he'd get some aspirin—names rattled through his head like he was reading a list. Or labels, handwritten labels. Feverfew, valerian, skullcap, lemon balm, lavender, mullein. Passion flower? Maybe he'd get some of that stuff too.

So, he wasn't where he expected himself to be. Not where he was. Not in the National Zoo in Washington, DC. Not on the East coast. He shook his head and almost passed out.

He checked his pockets again, this time frantically. Still nothing. The handful of paper were some receipts and a zoo brochure. A time was circled to visit Tai Shan. Squinting. Washington's baby panda. He must have seen him. And now he couldn't even remember that.

He dropped heavily onto a bench, groaning, and let the book drop heavily next to him. It was an _octavo_ volume. Octavo had something to do with eights, and right now that meant eight times larger and heavier than any book had a right to be. He brought the book closer and draped his thigh over it. Holding it down, tight.

Normally he thought he was pretty good at remembering but he'd forgotten coming to the zoo, being in the zoo, getting set upon in the zoo. He didn't remember why he was in Washington. He didn't remember even _coming_ to Washington. He couldn't remember where he'd been before Washington. Not anywhere. Nothing.

Oh gods. He couldn't remember his _name_. An unexpected flash of pain from his left arm made him look down and there was his right hand twisting the bracelet round and round his wrist. And it hurt, just twitching his left fingers hurt enough to make his breathing hitch, and this is what he did subconsciously anyway?

He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. No smoke and screaming. Just darkness. Then there was someone. Someone in his head. He could see him. Young. Hair all askew. Pretty sure the kid was yelling something, but he couldn't hear anything. And his head hurt so much.

Elbows on knees, head in his hand, he concentrated on the pavement. What the hell was wrong with him? He closed his eyes only to jerk them open again. The angry kid was there again, yelling at him. Gods damn it.

Something was wrong. Really wrong. _He couldn't remember his fucking name._

He couldn't have amnesia. Amnesia was melodramatic and practically non-existent, a conceit of fiction writers and soap operas, not real life. At least until you really couldn't remember your own _name_. Then it wasn't hackneyed and trite. It was terrifying.

He was sitting in a national park—the Smithsonian National Zoological Park—sitting in a _zoo_ at three in the morning and he didn't know who he was or what he was doing there other than he liked pandas. And he had a freakishly large book. Great.

He breathed in through his nose and pushed the air out through his mouth. All he had to do was concentrate; amnesia was an urban legend, a folk tale, not real. If he could think long enough, it would all come back …

A light swept over him and an amplified voice brayed so loudly in his ear he almost fell off the bench.

"You are trespassing on Federal property. Stand up! Lace your fingers together and put your hands behind your head."

He looked up and squinted in pain when the light hit his eyes. Might as well have stuck a knife in his head the pain was so bad, rattling around, sparking, and digging into his brain. He squeezed his eyes closed and groaned again.

_Swirling movement. Feet stamping. Cymbals. Drums. _

"Stand up! ¿Habla usted inglés? ¡Párese! Parlez-vous l'anglais ? Se lever! Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

Footsteps. His head was going to explode.

_Bright lights. Firecrackers. Dancing. Screaming._

Rough hands dragged him to his feet. He couldn't find his point of balance. A flashlight. Voices shouting. He covered his ears, tears sparking in his eyes.

"What language do you speak, boy? Italian? 'Lei parla degli inglesi? Russian? 'Вы говорите на английском языке?' Crap." The light turned away from his face. His breath huffed out in relief.

"Lace your fingers and put your hands behind your head!"

He tried, he got his hands together. He was turned abruptly, patted down. The light was in his face again.

"Oh, god, what happened to you? Brian, call it in. We need an ambulance." A hand pulled his head up. "Are you alright?" Hands tight on his biceps.

"English, English." He tried to concentrate on lacing his fingers but he lost track. "I can't lace my fingers." He looked up, pleading with the man to understand. "I'm trying but, I, um, can't…" The ground was tilting under his feet. "Gotta lie down."

"Whoa, whoa. Don't fall. Sit down, there's a bench behind you."

It wasn't graceful, but the bench was there. Once sitting, he started to slide over, feeling suddenly boneless. The book would make a great pillow. "Need to lie down."

But 'lace-your-fingers' guy wouldn't let him. "I'm thinking it's better if you sit, man. You've got a head injury—blood all over your shirt. Gotta stay awake. The ambulance is on its way. Brian's gone to get them, he'll bring them right here." He was interrupted by a squawk from the radio on his hip, and a tinny voice. "See, they're at the gate. Just a few minutes. Do you remember what happened? Did someone mug you?"

"No. Yes. I don't remember. I woke up and…"

"The park's been closed since nine o'clock, man. If you've been out since then, well, the hospital will take care of you."

He gulped, "Am I really in Washington?"

"Dee cee, my man, dee cee, glorious capital of the United States. Except now in August when it's a sauna. Where're you from? This your first time visiting?"

He tried to shake his head but stopped himself in time. "Not sure."

"You'll figure it out. My name's Shymal. Shymal Krishnamurthy. What's yours?"

Now that was a problem. Name, name, name. Ross—House—Welby? Great. All he could think of was TV doctors. "Don't know that either."

"Okay, okay, it'll be fine. Here're the EMTs." Shymal stood, but had to stop and catch him again as he listed to one side. "Come on, guys, he's in rough shape. I think he was mugged. I've been keeping him awake."

A new voice. "What's his name?" He heard Shymal reply but his eyes were locked on the gurney they were rolling towards him. He breathed out in relief.

"Can I lie down now?"

"Sure, fella, sure. Here, let me help you up. Can you stand?"

"Yeah." Gloved hands tugged at him, an arm pulled him up by the waist. "No." He reached for the gurney. "Wait. My book. Need my book." He tried to turn, but his legs were like water. "Need to lie down." And then finally he was and Shymal put the book next to him.

He closed his eyes and found only darkness. No one, no _thing_ waiting for him. Just darkness and quiet and relief from his headache.

Pain in his chest. Light in his eye. Someone shouting. "Wake up, fella. Wake up. What's your name?"

Pain in his ear? "Ow, quit. Awake."

"Then open your eyes, buddy boy."

Something on his cheek. His ear hurt again. He cracked an eye. "Leave m'ear 'lone."

"Hey, bud. Welcome back."

"What?"

"You're in an ambulance. We are en route to GW Hospital, ETA about eight minutes. I'm Rob and the driver is Buck."

"Rob?"

"Yeah, and Buck."

"GW? Washington? I'm going to Washington Hospital?" That sounded familiar. "Good."

"I guess you could call it that." Rob talked while he checked vitals. "It's GW University Hospital. Best in the city."

He breathed in sharply. "My book–where's my book?"

"That thing? It's here with your personal effects." Rob held up a garbage bag sized clear plastic bag. "Your Lemans watch is in here, and man, is that _nice_, bracelet, giant book… looks like everything. Anything else the hospital finds will go in here too, and they are good at keeping it safe."

He snapped out, "Need my bracelet back. Now. Never take it off."

"Here you go, man, calm down. Left wrist?"

"Yeah." Once it was back on, he breathed easier. "Sorry. Sorry, Rob. Just can't take it off."

"Don't worry, pardner, it's okay. It's on for now. How's your pain? Head, arm, chest?"

He groaned. "Wish you hadn't said anything."

"This'll help."

Something warm in his arm. He looked down. "What happened?"

"Give it a second. You're going to be fine. I've got to call this in, but I'm right here." Rob gave him a big smile. "Moan if you need something."

Rob turned to talk to Buck and then into a microphone, rattling off information to the ER. This seemed familiar. "What's wrong with my arm?"

The EMT held up a finger. He tried to pay attention but things kept slipping in and out. "Caucasian male, late twenties, mildly hypertensive", that must be him, "…head, penetrating wounds", lost him again, "blood loss, potential break left humerus … hey, buddy, open your eyes."

He didn't remember closing them. His eyelid was pulled up, Rob's face barely visible when the glare of the penlight faded. "Stay awake for me. Just a few more minutes. Doing okay? How's the pain?"

"Better."

"And here we are." He was pretty sure Rob followed the gurney for a minute or two, he thought he recognized the voice, but the lights started to smear and this time when he closed his eyes, no one woke him.

* * *

TBC. Chapter 2 will post Friday.


	2. Having a Capital Time

Rob was camping near Marblemount in the North Cascades with Flash when _it_ happened. They couldn't have been doing anything more prosaic. He'd found and banished a dryad and the two of them were just sitting by the fire toasting marshmallows for congratulatory s'mores when a spike of pain went through his head and it felt like the world had shifted over _there_ somewhere. Or his head had.

When his eyes opened, he was flat on his back in a pile of pine needles looking up into Flash's panicked face. "Oh, Gods, Galen!" He struggled to sit up, breathing ratcheting up with every second. He couldn't find his brother—he couldn't sense him, feel him. The missing connection was making the bones in his head burn. "Something happened. I can't find Galen. I lost him!"

Holding his head, he pushed down the link. Nothing. He pushed harder and finally got a thread of response. Latching onto it with everything he had, he followed the tenuous connection until it stopped dead at a barrier. No matter how hard he pushed, his ability couldn't break through.

Impossible.

Nothing could block an established Keeper link.

Sudden pain forced his eyes open. "Flash—what are you doing to my ear?"

Flash grinned, his teeth reflecting light from the campfire. "Pinching your earlobe. Mike said it would work sometimes… Rob. Where's Galen? What happened? Is he alright? You went down like you'd been pole-axed."

"I think I found him. I have to try…"

"First, let's get you off the ground." Flash gave him a hand, and a strong pull, and waited until he was sitting back up. "Are you alright?"

"No. Yes." His eyes were hurting. "I will be when I find him. I've got to try to get through again." He closed his eyes, then blinked up at Flash, still hovering by his shoulder. He tried to smile. "Don't let me go face first in the fire."

"I can do better than that." Flash pulled Rob's sleeping bag and air mattress out of his tent and set them up a few feet from the fire. "Lie on that. I'll keep an eye on you."

Lying down was a relief. He pulled his pack over to serve as a pillow, closed his eyes and concentrated.

There was the barrier. It felt and looked like a solid wall, but the surface was _flowing._ It looked like water. And like water, the wall would give when pressed, acclimating and adapting to pressure rather than giving way. He knew Galen was on the other side, he knew it like he knew his own name, Galen was right there. He called out again and again, trying to make the connection he needed so desperately to regain.

_There_. He focused everything he had and PUSHED.

The wall burst into a swirl of chaotic primary colors, smoke and mist curling around him, bright actinic pinpricks of light spraying out and falling like spent fireworks. He was almost overwhelmed by a sudden sensory avalanche of smells and sounds. Smoke and flowers; drums, pipes, sharp popping noises almost like gun shots, people screaming… and underneath everything all of it, a low rumble and the roar of wind and air whistling by his ears.

And Galen was back, the connection wrapping itself around and through the channels of his mind, and it was such a relief he heard himself sigh. Galen was asleep? No, unconscious. He tried to wake him, mentally screaming his brother's name, but Galen didn't respond. And that was all kinds of wrong, since his big brother would wake from the dead for him. Rob groaned and sat up.

"Rob, you there? I need you to move."

"Hmm?" He let Flash take an elbow and hoist him off the ground and guide him to sit on a tree stump. Rob watched in some befuddlement as Flash rolled up and packed his bag and mattress in a few economical movements. "You're getting good."

"What?"

"Camping stuff." Rob closed his eyes again and tried to will away the pounding in his head. "I have to go." He lurched to his feet, and steadied himself. "I have to go right now."

Flash handed him a backpack. "I'm ready. I've got most of the stuff in my pack, but I need you to carry this. We still have to hike to the jeep."

Rob looked around. The campsite was packed. He hadn't even noticed the fire was out. "You're really good."

"Hurry up, Rob. Let's get to the car. I called Rhiannon. We got this covered."

* * *

"C'mon, Rob, slow down!"

"Flash—what part of this do you not get?" Rob slammed through the back door of his building so hard he dislodged a bottle of dried skunk rose. Dried leaves and petals skirled across the floor in his wake.

Sneezing, Flash persevered. "We got everything covered. I told you."

Rob ignored him and ran upstairs, boots drumming a hollow noise against the wooden steps. When he thundered downstairs seven and a half minutes later (too long), Flash had moved into the front of the shop and was leaning against the sales counter, almost brushing shoulders with an intense older woman sitting cross legged on top of the display case.

She growled, "You should be glad we didn't have any customers. And that I don't startle easily." She flipped the safety back on a ridiculously large gun, spun it deftly, and tucked it back under the counter.

Rob crossed the room in long strides and dropped a leather satchel on the counter next to Flash. "Rhiannon – can you watch the store for a few more days?" He didn't wait for an answer, just stalked behind the counter and began ripping open drawers.

"Say please." Rhiannon waved two envelopes in his direction and said, sweetly, "What are you looking for, Rob?"

"Please." Rob didn't look up, just rifled through the contents of one drawer before jerking open the next one. Pulling out a Seattle/Tacoma phone book and tossing it on the counter, he slammed that drawer shut and pulled open another. "Galen keeps a credit card here somewhere for emergencies." He started on the next drawer, tossing paperclips, rubber bands, gum wrappers, used tea bags, lint, and promotional ball point pens on the floor. He held up a moldy sandwich wrapper. "This is gross. Why are you all such pigs?"

"Watch who you're calling a pig. That was your sandwich from two weeks ago." She asked again. "What do you need a credit card for?"

Flash grabbed for his arm. "Rob, man, I told you, things were covered."

Rob snaked a long arm into the back of a shelf and pulled out a box. "There it is!" He straightened and reached for the phone book with one hand, working the box clasp open with the other. "I have to get to Washington. Dee Cee. Today." He looked from Flash to Rhiannon, still slowly waving her envelopes. Envelopes with an airline logo. "Are those…?" He snatched the envelopes from her hand and opened them. "You already got them? Me and Flash?"

"Your flight leaves in four hours." Before he could protest, she hopped off the counter and pushed Flash toward the door. "You stink. Go home, shower, pack clean clothes and be back here in an hour. And don't pack any liquids. You can buy shaving cream and deodorant when you arrive."

Once Flash was in motion, she turned to Rob. "That's the next direct flight to Washington and the return is open ended. I could have gotten you on a plane leaving in two hours, but with the connections, you'd arrive hours after the direct one. I promise this is better." He got pushed toward the stairs. "Now, clean up and pack that", pointing at the bag, "better. I'll have coffee for you when you get back downstairs". When he hesitated, she pushed him again. "Go. They won't let you on the plane looking like a wild man."

"I can't wait. I have to go…" he rubbed his eyes. "It's Galen, he's missing somehow."

"I know. Flash told me. But the plane won't leave faster even if you are at the airport. And you stink, too."

"I'll pay you back, we'll pay you back, soon as I find him."

She snorted, and gave him another push. "I didn't pay for them. A lot of people owe you and Galen big time. I just made a call. Consider this a debt paid."

"They paid for Flash, too?"

"No one was going to let you go by yourself. Look in the mirror when you go upstairs—you'll figure it out."

Rhiannon was right. He was a filthy, pale, and red eyed mess. He wouldn't let himself on a plane. He climbed into the shower and let hot water work out some of the tension in his neck and shoulders, but his anxiety started to mount ridiculously fast. He dressed quickly but his hands were shaking so badly that tying his shoes took three times as long as it should have. He repacked his bag and ran down the stairs, striding into the shop and almost into his friend, Mike.

"Hey, Mike. What are you doing here?" He didn't let him answer before he thought of something else. "Why aren't you coming with me? We can change the tickets to your name. Flash won't mind. Galen might need an ER doc by the time we get there."

"Take a breath, Rob. I'm not going with you. I'm driving you to the airport." He considered Rob thoughtfully. "You look like shit, kid."

"Is that your professional opinion?" He rubbed his temples. "Can we go? We can pick up Flash on the way." He realized he was bouncing on his toes.

Rhiannon touched his arm. "He called—he's on the way. And the plane isn't going to take off any earlier because you're pacing around the gate."

"I can't… I can't just stand here. I have to do something." He started for the steps but Mike stopped him by grabbing his shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay on the flight?"

"What? I need to find Galen. He's not", he hit his forehead with the heel of his palm, "_he's not right. _I can't… Galen's hurt, and I…" he caught movement through the shop window. "Thank God, Flash is here." He grabbed his bag. "I'll let him in the back."

Two minutes later, he stalked back in with a sneezing Flash on his heels. He barked at Mike, "If you're driving, get your ass in gear!"

Rhiannon was looking under the register. "Rob, can you come here a minute?"

He turned toward her and took a step forward. "What?" He heard and felt Mike come up behind him as he walked toward the counter. "What do you need?"

"Where are the deposit slips? I can't find anything in this disaster area, and I'll need to make a deposit while you're gone…" He felt Mike's hand on his left arm as he pointed Rhiannon toward the slips. Before he could turn, Mike pulled up the sleeve of his teeshirt and daubed something cold on his arm with one hand, and stuck a hypodermic needle into his biceps with the other. And pushed down the plunger.

"What the—what did you put in me? You just walk around with a needle in your pocket?"

"Sedative." Mike capped the needle and dropped it into his pocket. "I know you and Galen." He cleared his throat. "And Rhi gave me a heads up." He turned Rob toward the back door and shepherded both Rob and Flash out of the building. "Rob, you looked like you were going to collapse. You're either going to angst yourself into a heart attack or a migraine." He opened the door and ushered them out to his car. "And they don't let jittery crazy people onto planes; they just start checking your body cavities for explosives."

"Oh, so they'll let me on asleep?" He reached for the door handle on the car and missed. By inches.

"You aren't going to suddenly keel over. This will just relax you. Make you happy. But you'll probably want to stay on your feet until you are on the plane."

Flash opened the car door and pushed Rob into his seat, before climbing into the back. Flash reached between the seats to help Rob latch his seat belt. He was unmoved by the glare Rob directed at him.

"Locked and loaded, Mike."

Rob brought his hand up to his face and wiggled his fingers. "My fingers feel funny."

Mike started the car and pulled onto the street. "Good. That means it's working."

Rob leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "When's this wear off?"

"You'll be fine by the time you reach Washington."

Rob sighed and turned his head to look out the window, street lights blurring and smearing as they drove. It seemed to take no time to get to the airport, and if Flash led him forcefully away from the security check point when he tried to see all the bags being x-rayed, he made it up by magically producing the tickets and a 'doctor's note' which made Rob start to giggle.

"I got a doctor's note? No phys ed today!" He listed suddenly and let the wall hold him up.

Flash dragged him back into motion. "You are a laugh riot when you're stoned."

"I'm a laugh riot all the time. I'm just riotey…uh, most, rye oh tee er high."

"It's riotous. You are more riotous … what am I thinking? Never mind."

That made Rob giggle again. "Rye oh tee _errr_. Like the way I roll the 'r'?"

Flash let him spend what felt like hours at the big windows by the gate watching planes taxiing around. Rob almost didn't want to leave, but Galen was _there_, and he was still _here_. He was trying to explain that to Flash as he cheerfully followed him onto the plane and to their seats.

"Look at all the room we have. Why do people complain all the time?"

"We're in first class, Chuckles. The hoi polloi get packed in like sardines further back."

Rob started to get up to look, but his legs didn't want to cooperate. Neither did the rest of him. The next time he became aware of his surroundings his head was on Flash's shoulder.

"Go back to sleep, Rob. It's still a couple of hours before we land. But close your mouth. You're drooling on me."

That was such a sensible suggestion, Rob decided to take him up on it. Flash had hidden depths. Rob was going to have to tell Galen. When he woke up.

* * *

TBC. Next chapter will post Tuesday.


	3. Hotels and Hospitals

Thank you everyone who has reviewed! Here's hoping the site will be friendly today. Special thanks to Merisha who did her best to beta for me, but I just couldn't stop fiddling with it. All mistakes are mine.

* * *

Something was off with the doctor. He couldn't put his finger on it but the guy was just… wrong, somehow. He woke up a couple of times to find Dr Shen prodding and poking at him, or the doc would just steal a look around the curtains. Shen stuttered and stammered and gave a high pitched giggle before he spoke. It was starting to seriously creep him out.

That and the young angry guy. The kid showed up every time he closed his eyes. Sometimes he replaced the monsters and smoke and screaming, almost pushing them out of the way, so that he could pace back and forth, waving his arms… one time he was sure the kid was in tears, but of rage or frustration or sorrow, he couldn't tell. When that happened, he opened his eyes to find himself twisting his old bracelet around and around on his wrist unconsciously. And Dr Shen, across the room this time, watching him.

He didn't remember much about himself—face it, he didn't remember anything—but some things he just knew. He couldn't read whatever language the monster book was in. Meat on his plate made him feel nauseous. Bananas were good, but he hated grapefruit. His bracelet stayed on his wrist, even if his arm was in a sling and it hurt like hell to work it over his swollen hand. He decided to trust that his instinctive dislike of the doctor wasn't psychosis, or sickness, and that he needed to keep a sharp eye on him.

He snagged his chart one time the doc had left it behind—and that was something else he discovered about himself—he read medical-ese like it was a child's primer. Shen had made notations about his patient's hallucinations and documented his request to have the patient committed to the psych ward for evaluation.

Trouble was, he'd never mentioned the hallucinations to the doctor or anyone at the hospital. He needed to leave.

He buzzed the nurse and struggled to his feet, wincing at the pain in his chest and his head. He found his clothes in a cupboard, and laboriously began to dress. The tee-shirt he'd been wearing was stiff with dried blood and it got pitched toward the trashcan. Hissing, he pulled his left arm out of its sling and worked his button down shirt sleeve over it. When the nurse came in, he was sitting on the bed, laboriously trying to tie his sneakers with one hand.

"I'm checking myself out. Would you please bring what paperwork you want me to fill out?"

"You're in no condition to leave. Let me help you take those clothes off and get you settled again."

He looked down at his unbuttoned shirt and the bandages on his chest. "It would hlep more if you'd button my shirt. Tell Dr Shen that I'm leaving."

"Dr Shen? I'm not sure I know..." She started forward and stopped again. "The police want to talk to you first. We asked them to wait."

"Just tell them I still don't remember a thing."

"And our financial department wants to talk to you…"

He did his best to smile. "When I remember who I am, I'll send my insurance information. I'm sure I have some."

The nurse left the room and he stood, letting a wash of dizziness roll over and past him, grabbed the book and angled toward the door, stopping to peer left and right. The coast was clear. He took a step and, damn, if a picture on the wall opposite him didn't start slipping up. Or him down. He cracked his knees on the floor. The book hit the ground with a loud slap and slid out of his reach, pages spread and bent. He heard running feet, and the nurse was at his side, holding his biceps.

"Sir, you need to stay. Please. Please, get back in bed?"

The question became moot when he realized he couldn't move his head. Or his arms. The next time he was aware enough to find himself, he was back in bed, stripped, and exhausted.

His nose itched and he tried to scratch it. That's when he found out he was strapped down. Right arm, and both legs. His left was in a cast. That was going to make leaving again that much harder.

And that kid was in his head, even though he was sure his eyes were open. Fuck.

* * *

Mike's sedative wore off an hour or two before landing, leaving Rob blinking and yawning. Flash was snoring softly, so Rob left him alone, only signaling the stewardess who promptly brought coffee, fruit, and a selection of scones and muffins. He could get used to First Class travel.

Rob spent the time before touchdown trying to get his brother to answer. He could 'see' Galen so clearly and Galen could sense him too, he was sure of it, but his brother wouldn't respond, even though Galen had been the one to create the 'never ignore me when I'm screaming in your head' rule. When Rob found his brother, he was going to kill him. After checking for injuries. And if he wasn't so sure something wasn't seriously wrong.

As soon as they touched down, Rob hustled Flash outside and shoved him into a cab. "The Four Points Sheraton on K Street – know it?" The driver nodded and hit the meter. Rob looked over at Flash. "We'll start at his hotel. Find out where he was headed when they last saw him."

"Can't you use your…" Flash dropped his voice, "mojo stuff and find him?"

"I can, but until I reach him through the connection, all I'm getting is an impression." He pointed his arm. "He's in that direction. I know that." A large road sign went by overhead.

Flash frowned. "All of _Washington_ is in that direction."

"Yeah." He rubbed his temples. "If I can get close to him physically, it should get stronger. Anything that will help me fine tune his location is going to help." He leaned forward. "How much longer?"

The cabbie thought another thirty minutes would see them in. When Flash protested and pointed out that they had practically landed in the middle of the city coming in to Reagan National, he got a casual wave and a laugh. "This is still rush hour. Worst traffic in the country next to Los Angeles."

Rob got on the phone to the hotel. Galen had come to DC to attend a symposium and hook up with some classmates from graduate school. And while neither of them liked to be separated, it wasn't hard to send Galen on his way for a long solo weekend, especially when he knew that Gwen Eggleston was going to be there. Galen had had a bit of an unrequited thing for Gwen for years. Maybe without his little brother tagging along behind, Galen could finally get some action.

And Galen really need to get some action one of these days if the Emrys line was going to continue. Big brothers bore the procreation responsibility in the whole Keeper gig, not little ones.

The hotel patched him through to the conference organizer, a Mrs. Lassiter, who admitted she'd last seen Galen when the conference broke up the day before. When he asked about Gwen, Mrs. Lassiter suggested that Rob come by the conference desk at their next break if he wanted to find her.

He disconnected and leaned back, rubbing his eyes. The nebulous feeling that Galen was west of the cab now was niggling at him, and it was a relief when the cab turned west onto K Street toward the hotel. Rob had the door open and his feet on the ground before the cab came to a complete stop at the entrance. Leaving Flash to pay the cab driver, he darted into the lobby, following signs and arrows to the conference registration desk.

Ms Lassiter assured him that she had gotten a note to Gwen, 'Dr. Eggleston' she called her, and that she should come to the desk at Noon. Rob checked his watch, unable to stop a sigh when he realized it wasn't quite 10 a.m.

"Dr Eggleston asked me if I'd seen Dr Emrys this morning as well. Do you think something has happened to your brother?"

"I'm sure he's fine." He smiled. "He usually doesn't like being called doctor. His degree is a Ph.D., not an MD."

She smiled back. "I like keeping things a little formal at these meetings." She turned back to answer the conference phone, and Rob stepped a few feet away.

Flash skidded to a halt beside him, panting, his hair askew, both their bags slung over his shoulder. "Thanks, Rob. I didn't have any cash. Did you know I didn't have any cash? Did you ask if I had any cash? The cab driver wanted cash, Rob."

Seeing the organizer's attention shift from the phone to them, Rob dragged Flash out of earshot before answering. "We have two hours. Why don't you take the bags and check them with the Bell Captain?"

Flash gave him an incomprehensible look. "The Bell Captain is out by the lobby, right?"

"That's where they keep them, yeah."

"Maybe the nice lady at the desk will keep them for us? They're small."

Rob rolled his eyes and held out his hand for the bags. "Why did you come, again?"

"Because someone bought me a ticket?"

The walk to the lobby and back did nothing to work off his nervous energy. Nor did the free coffee provided for the symposium attendees to which Mrs. Lassiter had solicitously allowed them to help themselves.

"Maybe we should just start in his direction? We can come back, or call…" his head swung when the meeting room door opened, but a couple of guys came out. "What do you think, Flash? Should we leave?"

"We are going to wait. Gwen should be out in a few minutes. Sit down, drink more coffee. Here—eat a Danish."

Noon finally arrived, and Rob was hovering by the registration table when the doors swung open. A striking redhead approached the table and spoke to the organizer. Ms Lassiter looked up and pointed at Rob. "This is Mr. Emrys' brother."

She turned and he held out his hand. "Ms. Eggleston, I'm Rob. Rob Emrys." If he had been wearing a tie, he would have straightened it. Or polished his shoes on the back of his pants. She was gorgeous.

"Call me Gwen. I'm glad to meet you at last, Rob. He talks about you all the time." She looked at him critically. "You look a lot like him."

Rob introduced Flash, who appeared to be trying to lurk behind an artificial ficus tree, and led them back to a grouping of chairs further away from the registration desk and the nosy Ms. Lassiter. "Have you heard from Galen today? Or do you know what he was planning to do after the conference yesterday?"

Gwen said, "I haven't heard anything today. He went to pick up a book in Georgetown. We were going to meet for a late dinner, but he didn't show. The book was for you, wasn't it?"

Oh, Gods, he'd almost forgotten the book. He'd made Galen promise to pick it up. If something had happened to Galen because he'd thought it would be funny to saddle Galen with a giant book… just, Gods. "Yeah, uh, yes. That's right. The book. That's a huge help. I'll check that out. If he calls you, tell him to call me, okay?"

"Of course. And you tell him to call me when you find him. Promise me that, Rob."

"I will. Thanks."

As he dragged Flash back toward the lobby and the exit, he caught his companion's expression. "Flash? What's wrong? You didn't stiff the cabbie, did you?"

"No! No, I paid him. It's this girl. She thought I was a movie star or something. From _Twilight_? Ever hear of that?" He didn't wait for Rob to reply. "She was screaming. She wanted me to sign her back or something, and I … ran when she turned."

"You're scared of a little girl?"

"No! No. There's a _pack_ of them. She said…" his voice trailed off as they entered the lobby. Rob knew he was only imagining all the air being sucked out of the room by the excited inhale of dozens of teenage girls. In Catholic school uniforms. His jaw dropped open. It was like an X-rated Japanese anime movie—short plaid skirts, saddle shoes. The girls were getting on their feet. He leaned toward Flash and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Run. Run for your life. Ditch them in the hallways or something then come out front. I'll have a cab waiting."

That's when the screams started. Flash bounded forward like a startled gazelle, and disappeared down an escalator.

Rob grinned and snapped his phone shut after the screams faded to nothing. He had all the action caught on his phone. Galen was going to love it.

* * *

This time he didn't call the nurse. It had taken several nerve-wracking minutes to fiddle open the velcro strap to release the restraint on his right arm. His fingers felt uncoordinated and numb, looking like sausages at the end of his cast. Actually, most of him felt pretty numb, he realized, moving his jaw experimentally. They must have dosed him with pain killers again.

Expecting his escort to the psych ward any moment, he kept a nervous eye on the door as he dressed. He had to slit the sleeve of his button down shirt to pull it over the cast, but he was able to tuck the torn sleeve neatly into the sling. The shirt's hem was bloody and that he tucked into his jeans, shoving bare feet into his untied sneakers. Combing his hair with his fingers, he hoped he could get out without attracting too much attention.

He found his book on the tray table, the cover now stained in a couple of places with some kind of liquid, and slid up to the door, spotting a couple of cops at the nursing station down the hall to his left, but a clear path to the stairs on his right.

Wtih the book tucked up between the cast and his chest, he found the sling helped support part of the weight. Walking as steadily and as casually as he could without staggering into the wall, he reached the stairs without attracting notice. He had to rest a couple of times on the way down, but made it to the first floor without passing out and falling.

When he got outside, his eyes kept being drawn to the east, so much so that he almost got run over by one of the cabs he was trying to flag down. He wished he could make one of those really loud whistles. Something about two fingers and getting them just so… someone … someone he knew could do it, and the name was right on the tip of his tongue but his brain stuttered and it was gone.

The cabbie that finally pulled over said, "Mac, you look terrible. You sure you shouldn't be going _into_ the hospital and not leaving it?"

He just slid in, letting the book drop down by his feet. When the cabbie said, "Where to?" His tongue wouldn't work for a minute. He stared east and considered just pointing the taxi that way, but he shook himself and smiled. "National Zoo." It almost hurt when the cab headed north and west, and he had to physically stop himself from craning his neck around to look out the back window.

* * *

TBC. Final chapter will post Friday.


	4. Diplomatic Immunity

Here is the final chapter. My thanks as always to Merisha for the beta, Muffy for the thumbs up, and to all of you who reviewed. I hope that those of you who are interested will check out Muffy Morrigan's profile to get more information on her Custodis Noctis novel, CN information, and related stories here on fanfic.

A/N: Like Chapter 2, I'm backing up the time line a bit – this scene begins while Galen is still at the hospital. This is a long chapter but I hope you'll enjoy it.

* * *

"Galen!" Rob's vision whited out as his legs buckled beneath him, knees cracking onto the rough pavement of a Georgetown sidewalk. "Flash, he's in trouble, we have to… he passed out." Flash's hands were under his arms, lifting him onto his feet. Rob turned unsteadily and pointed, "He's right _**there**_. We have to go." His feet started moving before he was aware he was walking.

Flash was tugging on him. "Rob! Wait! Come on, we're at the bookstore. Let's find out if he was here." Flash turned him toward the entrance and pushed. "The cab is going to wait for us…" he stuck his head back in the cab, "you are waiting for us, right?"

The cabbie shrugged. "Meter's running."

They were out a few minutes later, Rob shaking his head. "Pandas? It doesn't make any sense. Gwen was waiting to have dinner with him and he went to see _pandas_?"

Flash pushed his shoulder. "They _are_ really cute, Rob. Anyone would want to see pandas. I would want to see pandas." Rob glared at him as they climbed back in the cab. Flash amended, "Not when we are trying to find Galen, of course, but the rest of the time, I would want to see a panda."

Rob growled, "National Zoo" to the cabbie. When the driver turned north, Rob couldn't help his head from swiveling to look out the rear window. He ground his teeth for a few minutes, and then leaned forward. "Turn around – we need to go south, south and east. Can you do that?"

"You're the boss." The driver pulled a U-turn and barreled back down the way they had come, barely flinching when Rob yelled, "Take a right. A right –here!" He turned to Flash. "He's really close." Back to the cabbie. "What's down in this direction?"

"GW first, I guess. Then the Mall—Washington Monument, Vietnam Vets, all your big monuments."

"GW?"

"Yeah, GW University."

"Slow down." Rob pointed. "What's over there? Is that a hospital?"

"Sure, big one." The cabbie pointed out his window. "Right through there."

"Stop. Let us out here." Rob paid the driver, and bolted, Flash hard on his heels. They slowed down enough to enter the hospital at close to normal speed and casted about for the stairs. They went up three steps at a time until Rob pushed through the doors onto the fourth floor. Rob led them unerringly down two hallways and around a few corners before skidding to a stop.

There was a crowd in the hall in front of them. Rob could pick out police uniforms, nurses, orderlies, some suits, but no brother. "Flash, I don't think he's here anymore. He was. He was here."

"Can you tell which direction he went?"

Before Rob could answer, his eyes were drawn to a man in a white coat standing to one side of the crowd. He didn't seem to be participating in the conversation, just listening. People walked past the doctor as if he wasn't there. One person almost ran into him, and then disconcertingly, walked _through_ him. Rob's eyes locked with the thing's black gaze and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Images and sounds assailed him—moving water, fireworks, smoke and fire… a voice hissed in his head.

"_You have a bracelet like the other. It didn't protect him. Will it protect you?"_

He answered in kind, silently projecting words to the other. 'What have you done to my brother?'

_"Where were you, boy when I found the other? Cowering, sniveling children trying to interfere with one infinitely superior to you. Leave here."_

'Not without my brother.'

"_Brother, father, family … human concerns. The other is mine now. Run now to escape his fate." _The image of an immense reptilian head arched up behind the thing.

'My brother is not yours. You don't exist here. Your human form is an illusion... a _mirage_. I know you now, monster. And I'll destroy you.' He backed up, pushing his friend back with an arm across his chest.

"_Try as you will. But your sibling is lost to you. I will devour him."_

"Flash, move."

"What? What is it?"

"Just _move_." Rob hustled them around the corner, down the stairs, and back out to the street, keeping a constant eye behind them. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled up a cab. As they climbed in, Rob directed it back to the hotel.

"What the hell, Rob? Why the hotel? Where's Galen?"

"We need to prepare ourselves. It won't attack again until tonight. And Galen isn't good..." He reached through his connection. "But he isn't worse. And that thing in there has to be stopped. I know what it is. Why I've been seeing what I've been seeing." He fumbled for his phone, scanning his contacts. "Even the pandas make a weird kind of sense. I need to make a call."

Flash stared at Rob. "Pandas hurt Galen?"

"What? No. Did you see the doctor standing to one side?" Flash shook his head. "I did. And he wasn't a doctor. He's not even human. He's a _Shen_." Flash rolled his hand in a keep going gesture. Rob continued as he placed his call and brought the phone to his ear. "A _Shen_ is a dragon. A very old, very powerful Chinese water dragon. They use illusions, control of the mind, to lure their prey. It must have attacked Galen…" His call connected, and he held up a finger to hold up their conversation. "Yes, is this Marcus? This is Rob Emrys, from Seattle."

"_Rob! Galen called when he reached town. Are you coming east, too?"_

"I'm already here. Marcus, I need something esoteric. In a hurry."

"You_ want something esoteric? That's kind of like saying… hell, I'm not sure. What is it? And don't say phoenix tears because I'm tired of kids asking about all that _Harry Potter _crap."_

"A peach wood sword. Two if I can get them."

"_Damn, boy. Damn. Let me think."_

"Did Galen ask you for one?"

"_No. But why are you asking me?"_

"He's not with me right now. And I think he went up against a _Shen_."

"_A _Shen_ here? I need a couple of hours. You get here around seven."_

* * *

The zoo was bustling when he arrived, crowds moving up and down the paths, fanning themselves in the afternoon sun. Grimacing, he squinted against the pain lancing through his head from the bright sunlight. Even with hospital pain meds lingering in him, everything that had happened to him was starting to catch up. He felt like he'd been hit by a bus.

And it might have been a bus for all he knew. Something happened. Somewhere. At some time. By some one. And he still didn't remember.

Nothing looked familiar as he moved slowly through the park, keeping in shade as much as he could, following signs to the panda exhibits. He rested the book on the sign he'd found the night before, running the fingers of his right hand idly over the zoo logo as he watched a pair of red pandas tumble about in their enclosure.

He sat down heavily on a bench and dropped the book. It felt like his head was going to drop off when he leaned over to drag it back next to him. He rubbed his eyes before brushing dirt and a wad of chewing gum off the cover, and tried to straighten out some rumpled pages with clumsy fingers. The book sure looked a lot worse than it had yesterday.

When he could, he stood, and walked as steadily as he could through the giant panda exhibit with a chattering crowd, muttering apologies whenever he hit someone with the book. Short of putting it on his head, or pitching it in the trashcan, he really couldn't keep it out of everyone's way. He just wished it didn't feel heavier the longer he carried it. Or he could remember _why_ he was carrying it.

Just as he exited, a waterfall in the enclosure caught his eye. He stood stock still and stared, Water. Something about water—something in water? Out of water? It was making his head hurt. More.

He staggered to a shaded bench and sat with the book in his lap. He glanced through it, re-confirming what he had determined in the hospital. He couldn't read a word. But… _someone_ could. Someone he knew. Maybe the same someone who could whistle with two fingers. The book started to slide off his lap. Growling, he pushed the book onto the bench and sat on it. At least, it was a little softer than the seat.

His chest was probably bleeding again, his left arm was on fire, he was seeing purple and black spots, and the only thing he could think about was that it felt like his right arm was missing. Something huge was missing.

He went through his pockets again, hoping that he'd find an aspirin. Better yet, Vicodin. A syringe of morphine.

He sighed gustily and leaned over to hold his head in his right hand, resting his elbow on his knee. Exhaustion pushed him toward sleep, but even that was denied him when the now familiar images and sounds once again tried to overwhelm him. Being a victim to this was getting old. He had to take control or he really would need a psych ward.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, he concentrated. Running throughout every image was just one thing. Standing, running, falling, dropping, moving, reflecting, _water_. He separated out slivers and mirror shards of pictures–light sparkling on water, the movement of waves and currents, tugged out the sounds of water, note by note, until all he heard was water rushing, falling, trickling and dripping...

He fought it, looping the inner movie back to water, again and again, holding the kaleidoscope at bay and maintaining his focus. Slowly and surely, the cacophony of sights and sounds slowed and dimmed, slipping back and under the still image of a lake reflecting a fiery sunset, the only noise the gentle susurrus of water lapping the shore at his feet. It was beautiful and blissfully peaceful.

He raised his head, blinking his eyes clear. The sun had dipped behind a stand of pines to the west. He must have fallen asleep. He looked to his left and was so startled he almost fell off the bench. A man was sitting next to him. He tried to stand up.

"Whoa, chill, dude. It's me, Shymal. Remember? From last night."

He squinted at the man. Looked at his uniform. "You're the guard. You found me."

"That's right. Man, you look terrible. Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"Um, no insurance, I think. What time is it?"

"Almost eight. You've been asleep for an hour or two. I was just starting my shift when I saw you. Wasn't sure it was you at first, but I recognized that." He pointed at the book. "Come on. Let me take you home."

They both looked up at the sound of pounding feet, just as two men, running flat out, appeared on the path and headed in their direction. Both men skidded to a stop in front of him. They guy in the lead was … it was the angry guy from his head. Crap. He got to his feet, this time holding the book up on his shoulder. "Stay behind me, Shymal."

"Come on, man, I'm the guard here. And I have a gun." Shymal tried to step around, but he held him back with his casted arm.

Angry guy took a step toward him. "Galen? Are you alright?"

"Keep back." He waggled the book. "Just, keep back."

"What?" The kid looked around frantically, before bringing his eyes back to his face. "It's not here yet, I would feel it. Galen, what happened? You haven't answered me for two days!"

He didn't know how to reply. He moved the book in what he hoped was a threatening manner. "Just tell me why you're here!"

The second young man sniggered. "Look out, Rob. He has a book and he knows how to use it. He's a Keeper on the edge!"

"Flash, this isn't the time." Angry Guy glared at his companion. The kid's gaze softened abruptly and he thought for a minute he could see the young guy's soul in his eyes. "Galen? I came to find you."

_Rob. Flash._ "You're the one who's been putting," waving a hand near his temple, "all this–stuff in my head."

The kid, Rob, _Rob_ he reminded himself, took one step closer, and held out his hand. "No. No, I'm not. But I know what did. And how to stop it. And so do you."

He shook his head, and groaned when his head pounded with pain. "I don't know who you are!" Rob gasped as he heard Shymal move up behind him. He turned back to the angry guy.

"You don't know me? Oh, Gods, you _have_ to know me." Rob took a deep breath. "I see you have my book."

He brought the book off his shoulder and propped it up with this cast. 'Your book?"

"Yeah, you picked it up for me in Georgetown, remember? Yesterday." Rob took a step closer. "Oh, man. Galen, you look terrible."

"Yeah, everyone keeps saying that." He really wanted to sit down. Lie down. Fall down. But he lifted his head and held the book out toward the kid as best he could. "You can read it?"

Rob took another step and gently tugged the book out of his hand before it fell. Handed it to Flash, who had to juggle to hold it along with a long ungainly package. "Of course I can. You know me and old languages."

He snorted. "If it's ancient and incomprehensible, you write limericks in it." He stumbled, the pain in his head spiking. "How did… who are you?"

"Galen?"

Rob reached out a hand just as Shymal caught his biceps and held him up. "You say the word and I'll have these guys arrested. Are they the ones that mugged you?"

"No, Shymal. They're okay." He looked at the boy, the man, the angry guy from his head and took in a breath that even he knew sounded like a sob. "My head really hurts."

"I can help with that. Take my hand, big brother, just take my hand. Please."

_Brother_? His brother. He did the only thing he could. Held out his hand and grasped the one being offered.

And felt everything slide into place. He knew who he was. He knew why he'd been missing part of himself. Why nothing had felt right until this instant. "Rob."

Rob pulled him into a hug. "Galen, I was worried out of my mind. I couldn't find you."

Galen drew back. "There's a _Shen_ in the park. Water feature in the panda exhibit. Present from China. Think it hitched a ride somehow."

"I know, Galen. I met it at the hospital. Just relax. We've got a couple of hours to go before Draco rises. We'll get it then."

"Oh, Gods, of course. Dr Shen." Galen closed his eyes and felt a tear slip down his cheek. "Missed you, Rob. What took you so long?"

He felt Rob's hand on his shoulder. "Shymal? Would you and Flash get behind him for me?"

He tried to open his eyes, but the healing his brother was guiding into him felt so right. He focused his own healing energy onto himself. The pain in his head was finally fading, and it felt so good to be _whole_ again, he just relaxed into it. Then his knees felt funny, and his head fall back, and he felt his brother's arms guide him back onto the bench to lie down. He took a deep breath and as he exhaled, he let sleep claim him.

* * *

Rob let Galen sleep past nightfall and even so they were ready by the time true night fell and the constellations wheeled above them, bringing Draco the Dragon above the horizon. Rob watched Galen finish a complex series of chants over the peach wood swords as he patrolled the clearing they'd selected for the battle.

Shymal leaned in. "I don't know how you got those in the park and I'm not sure I want to. Just tell me if you are going to be done soon. I'm going to lose my job if my partner catches me aiding and abetting sword wielding lunatics."

Rob grinned. "That's harsh, man. They're only wooden swords. You checked them already. And we had friends throw them over the fence once we were in."

The guard groaned. "That simple? I'll lose my job because someone chucked sticks over the fence. Fantastic." He looked around again. "So something…" a noise interrupted them.

"Shymal, get behind the utility building. Flash? With me." Rob stepped forward and tried to take both swords from Galen. "And you too. Step back. I'll do this. Flash is my back up."

"No, Rob. This is my fight more than yours. My right arm was never hurt. And I'm a lot better than I was." His eyes widened and Rob could see his jaw muscles clench, just as his own warning system kicked in. "It's here. Trying to get in my head." He straightened and looked straight ahead into the dense shadows of the thickets around them. "_Shen_. Show yourself."

A noise like a teapot hissing and whistling floated around them. "Who are you to order me? We were old when you scratched pictures in rocks."

The sound died almost to nothing before the dragon emerged. A crocodilian head with bulging eyes and flying mustaches pushed into the clearing. A huge red mane started just behind its tremendous jaws, and four huge legs supported a long, sinuous body. Mist was belching out around it like huge smoke rings, rising on all sides, and in the mist… shapes and sounds of monsters. The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Galen gestured dismissively. "Mirages, lizard? We demand you leave this place we protect. Leave this place and return to China, your home."

"Why should I? There are rivers here that suit me. And swallows and pheasants enough. And humans by the millions if those morsels do not satisfy me. And here I can stand guard over a new domain."

Flash nudged Rob and whispered. "Pheasants? Do you think it means pigeons because, man, there are a lot of them."

"Stay back, Flash. Keep Shymal safe." Flash nodded but didn't move.

Galen gestured and Rob stepped into the center of the circle with him. They each held a sword at their sides.

Rob called to the dragon. "We stand guard here, too. We are _Custodis Noctis_." Rob held his wrist up, and Galen raised his to match. "We are Keepers and are from a line as ancient as you. We have fought your kind and far worse in the past and won. We will do it again. These rivers are not yours. The birds here are not those of your homeland. And we protect the humans of this land. Return home."

The dragon shook its head, mist trailing out in wreaths around it. "I will not leave."

They raised their swords. Galen said, "Then, _Shen_, we are forced to kill you."

It struck in silence, without warning, and almost faster than their eyes could see. Rob thrust at the head and missed the eye, but his sword left a two foot smoking gash down the dragon's head and neck. Galen spun when Flash shouted a warning, and struck as the dragon's tail swept at them with deadly accuracy. The peach wood sword parted scales, skin, and flesh like a hot knife through butter.

The dragon screamed in pain, coiling back upon itself, the clouds of vapor partially blocking their view. Rob and Galen moved into the mist cautiously.

Galen shouted again. "Return to your home, Snake, or we will destroy you. Give us your word, and we will spare you!"

The dragon lunged, snapping foot long teeth just inches from them as they parried and dodged. Rob could hear Galen's breathing change from a quick pant to harsh heaves of air, but still his brother continued to fight, gracefully avoiding a strike, and even with his left arm in a cast, inflicting a deadly slash to the dragon's spine.

Rob knew this had to end quickly. He stepped up to stand by his brother, nudging him gently with his shoulder. "Come on, Worm. Come and get us! We're right here!"

One eye reduced to a smoking ruin, maddened by pain, the dragon darted straight for them. As one, they stepped to the side, dodging the strike and allowing the head and neck to pass between them. They brought their blades down simultaneously with all the force of their arms. Galen's sword went through the dragon's remaining eye and sliced deeply into its skull. Rob's sword cleaved the neck in two, separating the head from the body.

Heaving in a breath, Rob looked up and grinned at his brother. Just in time to see Galen's eyes roll back in his head. Rob dropped his sword and vaulted over the smoking carcass. He caught his brother before he cracked his head on the pavement and held him until Flash and Shymal helped him ease Galen to the ground. Rob dropped to his knees next to his brother.

"Rob? How is he? Is he…?"

He put both hands on his brother and concentrated. "Exhausted. Pain, pain from his…" he jerked Galen's shirt up, exposing bandages sodden with blood. "Stitches pulled out." He closed his eyes and channeled the adrenaline still coursing through his body into his healing. He lost track of time until Flash pulled him away from his brother forcibly.

"I don't know everything there is to know, but I do know that you can't do too much of that in one day, let alone a couple of hours. We need to get him to a hospital."

Rob shook his brother's shoulder, rousing him a little. "No, he'll be fine back once we get him back to the hotel. He needs a lot of rest." He stood and stumbled. "And I need to eat something." He looked at Shymal. "Can you get us to the nearest exit?"

Shymal grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." He darted off, only to reappear in an electric cart. "We can take this to the parking lot and to my car." Rob and Flash got Galen up and into the back seat and leaned him back carefully. Shymal was about to get in the cart but stopped in mid step, looking over Rob's shoulder. "First though, what are we going to do about that?"

Flash laughed and held up a couple of water bottles. "Sorry. Almost forgot. Lighter fluid." He upended them over the body and walked the length of the dragon until every drop was on the carcass. He gathered up the swords before lighting a match and throwing it.

The body burst into fire with a roar, burning fiercely and brightly but with very little smoke. They covered their eyes when the flames suddenly flared, Rob turning to place himself between his brother and the searing light. It was over as quickly as it had begun, leaving small rings and drifts of pale ash all around the clearing, but nothing remained of the dragon.

Rob sighed. "Now we can go."

"That's a relief. I didn't want to lose my job because there was a dead dragon lying around." He shook his had and grinned. "It would almost be worth it. A dragon!" Shymal grunted when his walkie-talkie squawked. "All I have to do now is talk my partner into letting me take my break early." He picked up the microphone as he put the cart in gear. "Brian? All clear. One of the big light bulbs burned out."

Rob sat next to Galen in the cart and steadied him as the cart bounced through the zoo. A drop over a curb brought Galen's head up. "We leaving?"

"Yeah, bro, Shymal's giving us a ride to the hotel."

"Got your book?" Rob looked up quickly to see Flash holding the book in his lap, the swords on top. "Yeah, Flash has it."

"Good."

"Hope you don't mind us crashing in your room at the hotel."

"Gods. They'll never let me in looking like this. I don't even have my wallet."

Flash turned around to say something but had to turn back to keep the swords' tips from jabbing Shymal's side. "Yes, you do. Well, I do. You left it at the bookstore." He held up the wallet. "Probably thinking about dinner with the lovely Ms. Eggleston. Got all distracted."

Rob was pretty sure that Galen was blushing. When they reached Shymal's car, Rob and Flash packed Galen, the book, and the swords into the back seat. Rob fit himself in and sat next to his brother. As they pulled onto Wisconsin for the ride back to the hotel, Shymal and Flash talking quietly in the front seat, Rob nudged Galen gently. "Why the zoo, Galen? Why did you go see pandas when Gwen was waiting to have dinner with you?"

"I, ah, I like pandas. And it was the only day I had an afternoon free. And I didn't see pandas _instead_ of having dinner with her." He yawned. "I was supposed to get your book and see the pandas _before_ having dinner with her. Last time I'm picking up a book for you. You should have told me how big the thing was."

Rob picked up the 'thing' in question from where Flash had set it on the seat. He inspected it critically in the light from passing street lights. "Oh man, the guy said it was in perfect condition. He ripped me off. Look—the spine is cracked, the cover is filthy, the pages are bent and falling out… I can't believe this. I'm going to see him before we leave, let me tell you." He stopped talking when Galen put a hand on his arm.

"Wait, wait. It was in perfect condition when I picked it up. It's been through a lot."

"You are so right that you are not picking up another book for me if this is what happens to them in two days, Galen. It's rare, and valuable…"

"And incomprehensible except to gnomes…"

Rob growled. "And an irreplaceable reference book. You're lucky it survived."

"I'm lucky I survived."

Rob felt himself blush that time. "Sorry. Yeah, you are. And I'm lucky. You can't die. You don't have any little keeper kids yet. Were you thinking about having some mini-me's with Gwen?"

"That's none of your business." Galen looked up as Shymal pulled up to the hotel but looked back when Rob punched him lightly on the leg.

"Incorrect. It's going to be my business from now on. Because, big brother, I'm never letting you go ANYWHERE by yourself again. You understand me? Not across the street for coffee, not to the grocery store, not anywhere by yourself. Ever. Again."

Flash opened Galen's door and looked in. "Everyone alright back here? You get the leash on good and tight, Rob?" Flash held out an arm and Galen used it to pull himself out of the car. Rob scrambled out then had to duck back in to get the book and the swords.

He got out just in time to see Gwen hurry down the stairs and support Galen's left side, Flash on his right. Shymal stood next to him and watched them disappear into the hotel.

Shymal said, "Flash called her on the way here."

Rob ground his teeth together. "I didn't know he had her number."

Shymal slapped him on the back. "He has _your_ number, too." He laughed. "I'm glad you found him. I'm glad I was there to see a dragon. But do me a favor."

"Of course. Anything."

"Don't tell anyone about this, okay? I don't want to lose my job because …"

Rob held up his hands. "I know, I know." He handed him a card. "We live near Seattle but if you need something, anything, call. We'll find a way to help."

Shymal slipped the card in his pocket. "Thanks. You'd better get into the hotel if you don't want to lose your brother again."

* * *

Galen pushed himself out of the way to let the stewardess go by. "If I'd known that you two had First Class tickets I would have seen if I could upgrade."

Flash snorted. "What'sa matter, Galen? You don't want to sit all by yourself? In Coach?" He smiled as the waitress squeezed by again and set down a glass of Patron Silver tequila and some limes in front of him and Rob. He took a sip and smiled.

"But I'm the hurt guy." Galen pointed at his cast. "Let me switch with one of you."

Rob took an appreciative sip of his drink and stared at the fruit. "Galen, you want the limes? No?" He handed them to the waitress who was just squeezing past his brother again. "You said you were fine. You said we didn't need to change your return flight. So we didn't. We just got on."

The stewardess didn't squeeze past Galen again. This time she stared up at him. "You need to move to your seat." She took a step toward him and he took an involuntary step back. "The First Class area is only for First Class passengers." She stepped forward again.

He moved back. "I'll upgrade if there are any seats available."

She pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, sir, but the First Class section is fully booked." She unhooked the curtains and drew them closed. He heard her through the curtain. "Now, return to your seat."

He turned and hit his cast against a seat back. It was going to be a long ride home.


End file.
